On the other hand, Cheng Muyun was slowly sliding into the abyss, and he couldn't bear to watch it happen.
Two thoughts tugged at his mind, until finally only a barely audible sigh remained.
The two walked side by side on the way back to the tailor shop, their steps heavy, as if being dragged by invisible chains.
Inside the shop, Xinghua was holding up several pieces of fabric to Xiaohe's body. When she saw them come in, Xinghua looked up and her gaze lingered on Chen Hede for a moment, a clear look of surprise flashing in her eyes.
Clearly, Chen Hede's visit to Nanhu was kept completely secret, not even from her, his personal attendant.
"Master." Xinghua put down the fabric in her hand and called out softly, her tone tinged with caution.
Chen Hede simply nodded slightly, the frown between his brows remaining unchanged, and he didn't even bother with polite small talk.
Looking at him like this, and then at Xu Zhuohua next to him, with his head drooping and shoulders slumped, he looked like a wilted eggplant, completely devoid of energy.
Xinghua's heart skipped a beat; she knew something troubling must have happened.
She didn't ask any more questions, but turned to Xu Zhuohua and softened her voice: "Now that the fabrics have been chosen, shall we go back first, Miss?"
Xu Zhuohua nodded silently, then lowered his head and started walking.
The toes of the shoes, embroidered with lotus blossoms, tapped against the bluestone pavement with a dull thud, and the journey continued in silence.
Chen Hede followed silently behind her, with only a half-step between them, yet it was as if a thick dark cloud shrouded them. Even Xiaohe, who was usually bouncing around and always laughing, pursed his lips and dared not utter a sound, obediently following Xinghua's side.
Back at the clinic, Xu Zhuohua felt all her strength drain away as soon as she stepped across the threshold.
She didn't go back to her room or say anything; she went straight to the pond in the backyard.
The newly emerging lotus leaves on the water's surface curled up at the edges, like tiny clenched fists, floating in the shimmering waves.
She stood there, her gaze fixed on the inconspicuous green shoots, her eyes vacant, her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts, unable to make sense of it all.
Cheng Muyun's stubborn face kept flashing before her eyes, making her feel a tightness in her chest.
Cheng Muyun's feelings for Xu Zhuohua were deep love and passion.
Whether it's more important than life itself, Xu Zhuohua couldn't say.
However, Cheng Muyun's love for Xu Zhuohua seemed even more vast and profound than the South Lake, and she felt that she could not accept this overwhelming love.
Xu Zhuohua naturally hoped that Cheng Muyun could live, but if, as before, Cheng Muyun was imprisoned and the two of them were embroiled in scandals, then it would be better for them to die.
They need to change, change their identities. Cheng Muyun is no longer the young marshal, and Xu Zhuohua is no longer the young marshal's wife.
If they had been an ordinary, mediocre couple, like countless other ordinary people who don't need to be recorded in history, would they have been able to escape the arrangements of fate?
Xu Zhuohua didn't know, but she wanted to fight for it.
If they succeed, the world will simply have one more ordinary, loving couple; if they fail, Cheng Muyun will die, and Xu Zhuohua will not live on alone.
Xu Zhuohua had figured it out, but a shadow still lingered in her heart.
As dusk settled like cotton wool soaked in ink, it gradually spread across the surface of South Lake, blurring the silhouettes of the vegetation on the shore.
As Xu Zhuohua gazed at the gradually brightening star reflections in the water, she suddenly turned around and met Chen Hede's unfathomable eyes.
He stood under the eaves, a fine layer of dew clinging to the shoulders of his blue cloth robe, the dampness spreading into a dark patch. He had been standing there for who knows how long, like a silent stone statue.
Xu Zhuohua sighed softly, her voice carried on the evening breeze: "Chen Hede, you should go back to Xinhai City immediately."
Chen Hede was taken aback, his brows furrowing slightly, a vague doubt swirling in his deep eyes: "Now?"
"Yes." Xu Zhuohua nodded, her tone unusually firm. "Go to the Xu family and tell my father to make sure he invites Cheng Muyun to a meal. During the meal, have my father explain to him the real reason I went to Dongzhou in the first place."
She paused, her fingers unconsciously twisting her sleeve. "If he could hear these words, perhaps... perhaps he could pull himself together."
Chen Hede pressed further, "What's the reason?"
Xu Zhuohua looked up at the boundless darkness. The night sky over Nanhu Lake was like thick, unyielding ink, making her profile appear even paler. "To save him."
After a moment of silence, Chen Hede finally asked the question that had been lingering in his heart for a long time, his voice carrying a barely perceptible probing: "Why do I always feel that you seemed to have known all along that he would go down a dead end?"
Xu Zhuohua suddenly chuckled softly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes; it only lingered on her lips, carrying a hint of desolation: "Have you forgotten? I spent three years practicing in a temple."
She gazed at the blurry mountain silhouettes in the distance, her tone as calm as if she were talking about someone else's affairs.
The night wind ruffled the stray hairs at her temples. She raised her hand to tuck them behind her ear, her eyes suddenly brightening with an almost stubborn light: "I know Cheng Muyun will die a horrible death, but I'm just stubborn. I want Cheng Muyun to live a good life."
Chen Hede frowned, his Adam's apple bobbing: "Xu Zhuohua, do you really... not want to see him again?"
Xu Zhuohua turned around abruptly, her movement so sudden that tears from the corners of her eyes were violently flung out, like two stars shattered in the wind.
Her eyes were already brimming with tears, her eyelashes clumped together, her expression was one of suppressed grief and indignation, and her voice trembled with a sob: "I want to."
"How could I not miss him?" She sniffed, but the tears flowed even more fiercely. "Not a single day goes by that I don't miss him. Without him, I feel like living is like chewing wax, it has no meaning at all."
She raised her hand to wipe her face, her fingertips damp with cold tears. "I didn't even realize that we'd been separated for more than half a year... Sometimes, watching the sun rise and set, it feels like a dream."
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